


The Getaway (With Art!)

by SuperFrikinAngsty



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anthony Fell Jr., Anthony J. Crowley Fell, Aziraphale fell, Gabriel is a bastard, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Family, Lots of Angst, M/M, Rosalie Fell, Zachary Fell, artwork!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFrikinAngsty/pseuds/SuperFrikinAngsty
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been married for three years, which also happens to be the number of children they’ve been blessed/cursed with: a headstrong pair of twin boys (Zachary and Anthony Junior) and a little girl (Rosalie) too young to be anything but sweet. Everything seems perfect…The angst is very real with this one, so I’ve issued a few warnings: Major character death, visible blood, graphic descriptions of violence.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so lucky to have been able to collaborate with such a talented artist. Please find and follow her on Tumblr!
> 
> Illustrations by Erin (https://my-chemical-romanoff.tumblr.com)
> 
> This is my first time uploading images with my story! I'm sorry if the sizes are wonky!
> 
> Also, please remember that I'm American! My spelling and word choices will be different than their English counterparts.

“I’m going to get some wine for dinner.” Aziraphale looked up from the book he was reading when his husband spoke. “Be back soon.” Crowley was by the front door of the bookshop, shrugging a jacket onto his lean frame.

“You’re leaving?” Aziraphale asked, marking his place before closing the book. He shifted in the chair slightly, stretching out his back.

Crowley paused, mid zip. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I was just going to light some candles and take a little bath before dinner.” Aziraphale looked over to where the kids were playing in front of the fireplace. “Can’t really do that when there are three little ones depending on you to keep an eye on them.”

Crowley followed his gaze and smiled at the toddlers. “I can bring the boys with me.”

“My dear, they are three years old. A liquor store is not an appropriate place for them to spend their evening.”

The demon lifted a twin onto each hip and shrugged as he watched his husband pick up their youngest child. “Nonsense. We’ll have fun. Right, boys?” The two nodded happily, grabbing for Crowley’s shoulder-length auburn hair that he had been growing since the Armageddon-that-wasn’t. He shook the strands free from their fists before miracling it up into a bun on the crown of his head.

“Might even stop at the sweets shop down the road on the way home…” Crowley lilted.

Aziraphale gasped, a pleased blush spreading across his cheeks. “Oh, if you do, please grab me some of those lovely macarons! You know the ones I like.”

Crowley chuckled and kissed the angel on his forehead. “Of course, dove.” He watched Aziraphale lean forward and kiss both boys on the tops of their heads. “Now go start that bath so you’re ready for dessert when we get home.”

Aziraphale gave his husband a smile and a soft kiss on the lips before he looked down at their daughter. “I suppose I could set up a playpen for Rosie in the bathroom with me.”

“That’s the spirit, angel. We’ll be back soon, alright?” Crowley set the boys down by the door as he helped them into their jackets, hats, and mittens. “Let’s get all bundled up, yeah? Don’t want my little snakes to get cold!” The twins giggled before one opened the front door. “Zachary, don’t you dare go down those steps by yourself!” Crowley yelled after him.

The younger of the twins smiled cheekily and turned on his belly to scoot down the stairs to the sidewalk in front of the bookshop. “Bye!”

Crowley quickly finished dressing the other boy, AJ, before picking him up and scurrying outside after his son. “What did I tell you?” he glared at the little boy before grabbing his hand and leading him to the Bentley that sat parked across the street. He set both boys into their car seats and began the laborious process of buckling them in. Both kids made it especially difficult as they squirmed around, trying to escape the car. “Hey!” Crowley hissed a little, his tongue catching on his extended fangs. The boys froze for a moment before they laughed, reaching for their father. The demon only sighed, finishing the straps on both car seats before slipping into the front himself. He glanced in the rearview mirror at the twins and couldn’t help but smile as they kicked their feet in anticipation of the ride. Starting the car, he flipped on the radio to a station that was miraculously playing Queen. When he slowed to a stop at the liquor store, he miracled a stroller to be waiting beside the car. Unbuckling AJ, Crowley tried to place him in the seat.

“No!” AJ squirmed and kicked in his father’s arms. “Want to walk!”

“There is a lot of breakable things inside this store,” Crowley tried to explain. “You have to sit or you might get hurt.”

“No!” AJ wailed, going limp in Crowley’s grasp as he started to cry.

Crowley sighed as he settled the toddler into the top seat of the stroller. He turned around to grab the other boy, who had begun to cry as well. He buckled both securely into the stroller before he knelt down in front of them. “Look at me,” he said. Neither stopped crying, so he tried again. “Want to know a secret?”

AJ hiccupped, rubbing his eyes. “What?”

“You have to stop crying, or I won’t be able to tell you.” It took a few moments for both boys to stop crying. When there was nothing left but sniffles coming from them, Crowley smiled encouragingly. “Your Papa has to sit when we go shopping here, too.” He wrinkled his nose with a little smirk as they pondered over what he had told them.

“Really?” Zachary asked.

“Yep,” Crowley confirmed. “He’s broken too many things.” The twins began to giggle as Crowley pushed them inside. “There we go,” he smiled. “No more sad faces.” Two stuffed unicorns appeared in the laps of the boys and they squealed with delight. “Let’s go find that wine for your Papa.” He pushed the stroller down a few aisles before he stopped in front of a long row of shelves. Crowley pursed his lips before settling his sights on one of the more expensive bottles. “Hm…” He picked up a Bordeaux and glanced at the label. “1986,” he mused. “Not a bad year.”

“Nine, one, four…” AJ read.

“Good job, buddy,” Crowley grinned. “That’s right. Nine hundred and fourteen pounds. I think your Papa is worth that, don’t you?” Both boys nodded. Crowley took the wine to the front counter to pay.

“Aww, they’re adorable,” the cashier cooed as she rang up the wine. “How old are they?”

“How old are you?” Crowley asked them. Both struggled to hold up three fingers. “Three,” Crowley confirmed.

“Daddy is six thousand!” Zachary told the cashier with a wide grin.

“Is that right?” she laughed. Zachary nodded, hugging the unicorn to his chest. Crowley whipped out a credit card and paid for the wine. He wheeled the boys back outside, where it had begun to lightly snow. The twins leaned forward in their stroller reaching out to grab the flakes from the air. Crowley smiled before getting the kids settled into their car seats. He glanced back at their glum faces as they looked out their windows at the snow and sighed. He pulled out his phone and dialed his husband.

“This is Aziraphale.”

Crowley rolled his eyes at the way the angel insisted on answering the phone. “I know who it is, you idiot,” he said teasingly. “I called you.”

“Crowley!” the voice on the other side of the line immediately brightened. “I was just slipping into the tub.”

“You’re not already in?”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed. “Rosie needed a diaper change and then I had to set up her playpen. Just as I set her down, she began crying, so I had to give her a bottle. And you know how messy she is, so I had to completely change her. I’ve just started filling the water.”

“You didn’t forget your lavender bubbles, did you?”

“Of course not!” Aziraphale scoffed. “I’m frazzled, not incompetent.”

“Of course not,” Crowley parroted back, his voice soft with fondness. “Look, since you haven’t had any time to relax yet, I think I’ll bring the boys to the park for a little while. It started to snow and they could use a little outdoor time.”

Aziraphale let out a soft sigh of relief. “That sounds wonderful, my dear.”

“We’ll be home in a little while, and I’ll make sure to grab you those macarons.”

“Thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley ended the call and turned to look at the boys in the backseat. “We’re going to a park!” They both squealed, copying their Papa’s wiggles of excitement. Crowley’s heart swelled as he looked at his boys. When they arrived at the park, everything already had a light dusting of powdered snow. Crowley let the twins out of their seats, releasing them to the playground. They rushed to the slides, racing each other to be the first one down. “No pushing!” Crowley yelled after them. “Or we go home!” He watched them make their way down the various slides of the park with a smile. After a little while, he made his way to an open patch of snow and stopped time around them before opening his wings. “Come here,” he called to the boys. “And watch this!” He spread out his arms and fell backwards into the snow. He wiggled for a moment before springing up and turning around, brushing the snow from his falling bun and coat while he shook out his wings.

“It’s a real snow angel!” Zachary gasped.

“Snow _demon_ ,” Crowley corrected his son, resting his wings against his spine. “Let me show you how to make one.” He coached the boys through opening their little wings and flopping onto their backs. They kicked their feet around for a bit before raising their arms for Crowley to lift them up. He pulled both kids out of the snow and set them down a few feet away from their impressions in order to admire them. They grinned and Crowley helped them tuck their wings away before he restarted time. “Go run around,” he encouraged them back towards the park. “Tire yourselves out,” he mumbled after they had run off. He cleared a bench and lowered himself into it as he watched them play.

“Daddy!” AJ yelled from the top of a slide. “Watch!”

“I’m watching, buddy,” Crowley reassured him. “You’re doing a great job.” He leaned on the bench and spread his arms across the backrest as he stretched out his legs in front of him. A shiver ran down his spine as a few snowflakes made their way down the nape of his neck. He watched the twins for a while longer before he pursed his lips with a smile. Leaning forward, he scooped up a little bit of snow and with the small help of a miracle, made it land directly on AJ’s head.

“Aahh!” he shrieked before he sat down to cry.

Crowley cursed under his breath and ran to pick up the toddler. “Shh,” he tried to console him. “It’s just snow. It’s fun, see?” He made another snowball and tossed it towards Zachary. It ended up hitting him in the back, knocking him forward onto his face. He pushed himself up from the snow and began to giggle. AJ sniffed and wiped his mitten underneath his nose before Crowley set him back on the ground. Zachary began making his own crude snowballs before throwing them towards his dad and brother. Most of them fell flat, with only a little bit of powder hitting their intended targets. AJ smiled a little before bending forward to scoop up some snow. “Now you throw it at your brother,” Crowley told him.

“Okay,” AJ bit his lip before he turned around and tossed his handfuls of snow at his father instead.

Crowley gasped in shock, blinking in surprise as AJ ran to join his brother. “You little liar!” The twins began to pelt their father with snowballs as he cowered away from them. Crowley held his hands out in a crude shield as he burst out laughing. “I’m gonna get you two for that!” The boys squealed and ran away, looping around the playground in order to avoid their father’s wrath. Crowley tried to toss snowballs towards his children, but they managed to hide before they could hit their targets. He shook his head and miracled up a snowball twice the size of the boys. Their eyes widened as they looked at the looming shadow above them. With a smirk, Crowley dropped it, burying the boys in loose snow. Their heads popped out of the pile, giggles and smiles abound. They clambered out of the snow and rushed to tackle the demon.

Crowley fell onto his back as the twins piled on top of him. He laughed, wrapping his arms around them in a tight hug. They pushed their cold noses against his cheeks as they snuggled into his warmth. He hoisted himself to his feet, carrying the boys back towards the Bentley. AJ sneezed as Crowley finished buckling him back into his seat. “Cold,” he sniffled, scrubbing his mitten underneath his pink nose.

“You’re cold?” Crowley’s forehead creased as he realized how flushed their cheeks were. “I suppose you would be. Let’s stop and get your Papa those macarons and get you two some hot chocolate.” Their faces immediately brightened as Crowley drove back towards the bookshop. He pulled off the road at the little sweet shop and helped the boys out of their seats. Taking hold of their hands, he led them inside the store. They approached the counter and ordered a baker’s dozen of various macarons for Aziraphale, some peanut butter cookies for Crowley, and cutout sugar cookies and cocoa for the boys. They sat down at a little table and ate their cookies. “Feel warmer now?” Crowley asked. They nodded enthusiastically. “Good. How are your cookies?”

“Good!” they both exclaimed.

“You know, I couldn’t hear you when you got your cookies.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” they said in unison, cookie crumbs stuck all over their faces.

Crowley smiled. “Alright, you two. Let’s get you home and cleaned up before your Papa starts to worry. And don’t tell him you already had dessert.” The boys nodded, each charged with carrying a little bag of cookies back to the car. They settled into their car seats without fuss, allowing Crowley to buckle them in with no protests. They drove home in fine spirits, parking outside of the bookshop and walking into the warm store. Crowley ushered the boys into the kitchen to put the cookies on the counter. He frowned when he noticed that there was no meal waiting on the stove for them. Not that he expected Aziraphale to cook for them, but it was something the angel thoroughly enjoyed. “Huh,” he muttered. He shook his head as he walked the boys down to their bedroom, hearing some splashing coming from the bathroom. “Let me get your Papa and sister out of there so the two of you can get cleaned up.”

“Okay,” they smiled, already tugging off their shirts and pants. Crowley shook his head as they stumbled around their room in their diapers and socks. They were so close to being potty-trained, but hadn’t quite grasped the concept of telling their parents when they needed to go.

Making his way back towards the bathroom, Crowley knocked on the door. “Angel?” Rosie gave a cry at the sound of her father’s voice. “Angel, we’re home.” He tried the handle, but found it locked. “Aziraphale, the door is locked.” Rosie cried louder at the sound of the rattling door. “Aziraphale? Is everything okay?” The only sound that came from within was his daughter’s cries. “Aziraphale!” Crowley returned to the boys’ room and set them in their cribs. “Daddy’s gonna be right back,” he promised them. “Just stay here.” He closed their door behind him, ignoring their confused faces and questioning reaches. After trying the handle to the bathroom one more time to no avail, he gave in to using a miracle in order to unlock the door. “Azira–” his eyes widened as his voice collapsed into a horrified whisper as his daughter began screaming, “–phale…?”


	2. Chapter 2

He stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and his limbs going numb. One of his hands was still on the doorknob as he took in the scene before him in slow motion. He could feel every part of him begin to shut down, the numbness overtaking every other feeling that had previously been present within the demon. There were no words he could have used to describe the horrors that were in front of him.

There was just horror.

And there was blood.

 _Everywhere_.

Splatters littered the ceiling in macabre patterns, dripping down the walls in red icicles. Not a single surface was without blood. The candles had all been extinguished from the spray, their once white wax turned red. He turned to look at the mirror, his pale face being reflected back at him through splashes of red. His vision blurred as he continued to stare at himself. Crowley felt dizzy. In all his time on Earth, he had never seen so much blood. He preferred to avoid battles in favor of drinking alone or with the angel. This was the first time he truly understood what the Apocalypse should have been. It was supposed to be the End of everything. And it was supposed to be bloody. He swallowed without thinking, his mind spiraling into nothing. He was finally brought out of his reverie by Rosalie’s screams. Crowley’s gaze snapped to his one year old daughter who sat in the middle of the bathroom inside of her playpen.

Blood had pooled inside of it, soaking her from head to toe. The puddle was smeared from where she had crawled around, trying to get away from the seeping liquid. Toys were abandoned, stuck to the floor with the aging blood. The teddy bear Crowley had gotten for her when she was born was lying on its side, completely saturated with blood. Rosie began reaching for her father as she sobbed on the hard tile, her tears clearing away lines of the blood that had streaked her face. Crowley forced himself to blink a few times before he scooped her up and pressed her tightly to his chest. One of his hands, now covered in blood, held the back of her head against his shoulder so she couldn’t see what remained around her. Rosie’s cries continued, but were muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

Crowley collapsed to his knees, blood darkening the already black denim of his jeans. He tried desperately not to acknowledge what was in front of him as his eyes slowly traveled around the bathroom. Eventually he was forced to rest his gaze on the figure that lay in the bathtub. Directly before him, and nearly eye-level, was the pale body of an angel who had grown to love a demon. His face was relaxed, almost as if he were sleeping, and miraculously devoid of any blood, save for a thin line between his lips. His wedding ring was visible on the dripping hand that draped over the edge of the bath. The tub was red around him, little rivers flowing onto the floor and pooling at Crowley’s knees. There was not a drop of clear water left. Crowley stared as the fine, blond hairs at the back of the angel’s neck were slowly dyed pink as the dark water lapped against them.

He shook, knowing what a body meant.

When angels are discorporated, their bodies return to Heaven with them in order to be remade into working order. When angels are killed, however… there is no need for bodily repairs. The fact that Aziraphale’s body was still before him meant he had not been merely discorporated; he had been murdered, never to return. Crowley clung to their daughter as if she were his only lifeline, and at that moment, she was. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to stop his eyes as they traveled the length of the tub, trying to assess what damage had been done to his angel. But he couldn’t. The water was so dark and murky that Crowley could hardly pick out his husband’s soft frame underneath the surface. If Crowley had to guess, it was most likely the angel’s own sword that killed him. Someone had gotten ahold of the blade and had used it against the love of his life. He reached out a shaky hand to softly touch Aziraphale’s cheek, only to reel backwards in shock when he felt how cold his skin was.

He felt sick. He couldn’t breathe, much less believe what he was seeing. But he knew it was true. He couldn’t feel the angel’s presence anywhere. Crowley’s eyes flitted down to the ring he had gifted the angel. After what felt like ages, Crowley forced himself to stand up and back out of the bathroom. The door swung shut behind him as he trudged down the hallway, bloody footprints following him. He looked behind him and cleared them away with a miracle and a blank expression. In the same thought, he cleaned himself and his daughter of blood as well. He returned to the boys’ bedroom and forced himself to look at his sons. He never realized how much they mirrored their parents. AJ took after Crowley in looks, with bright eyes and red hair and a soft personality to match Aziraphale’s. Zachary was the opposite, his small body stuffed full of spunk and sass like Crowley, with curly blond hair and gentle eyes like Aziraphale. Crowley silently redressed the children, his bun finally falling apart and shielding his eyes from their questioning looks.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” AJ asked.

“Nothing,” Crowley said blankly. “Just get dressed. We need to go.”

“Where?”

“Back to the park,” he lied. “I left something there.”

“I want to stay with Papa,” AJ crossed his arms, refusing to put his shirt back on. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too!” Zachary piped up, wiggling around on the floor to get his pants off. Crowley clenched his jaw and finished dressing them before he led them downstairs. He began putting on their jackets when they started complaining more. “I want to stay!”

“I want Papa!”

“Enough!” Crowley yelled for the first time in his life. All three kids shrank back from him as his eyes exploded yellow. Their small bodies shook slightly as he stuffed them into their winter gear. AJ had tears in his eyes, but didn’t dare let them fall. “Let’s go.” He picked up a crying Rosie and walked out of the bookshop towards his car, the boys following closely behind him. He crawled into the backseat to put the children into their car seats. The car was silent as they drove back to the park. When they parked, Crowley stepped out of the Bentley and tilted his head back to look at the stars. He took a shaky breath before he stuck his hand in his coat pocket. His fingertips were met with cold metal as he pulled out the ring to examine it in the starlight. The wedding band had been forged out of a pair of his sunglasses for the angel and was the only piece of him he had left. Sticking the ring back into his pocket, he climbed back into the car.

He drove slowly back to their home, carefully taking the children out of their seats as they watched flames emerge from the bookshop. “Are you the owner of this establishment?” Crowley heard a firefighter speak.

“Do I look like I run a bookshop?” he scoffed halfheartedly, remembering the last time the bookshop had been on fire, only three years prior. “The owner is my husband.” The boys clung to Crowley’s legs as he held his daughter on his hip.

The firefighter nodded. “The origin of the fire appears to be a set of candles that were knocked over in the bathroom,” the man said. “I’m afraid we found a body inside. It matches the description of Mr. A. Z. Fell.”

“That’s my husband,” Crowley said.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the firefighter started back towards the trucks.

“Daddy?” Zachary timidly spoke up from behind Crowley’s left knee. “Where’s Papa?”

Crowley nudged the kids away from his legs before he knelt down. “Your Papa is… he’s gone.”

“When is he coming back?” AJ asked, screwing up his face in confusion.

Crowley looked at their little faces, illuminated by fire. “He’s not.”

“Why?”

Crowley swallowed and looked up at the burning building. Crowley tried to phrase it as gently as possible, “Papa went to sleep and he isn’t going to wake up.”

“We can wake him up! Where is he?”

“Your husband's body is in the ambulance,” a different firefighter said. “Although I don’t think you should let your kids see him like that–”

Zachary and AJ ran from Crowley and climbed into the back of the ambulance, following the firefighter’s instructions. Crowley followed behind them with Rosie in his arms as Zachary tugged on the sheet covering his father’s body. “Papa,” he called. “Papa, it’s Zack’y. Papa, wake up.” He tugged harder until Aziraphale’s face and shoulders were revealed.

AJ climbed onto one of the benches built into the side of the truck and leaned forward until he could clamber onto the stretcher next to the angel. He put his hands on Aziraphale’s chest and pushed lightly, shaking him a little. “Papa, wake up. Wake up!” he begged.

“Zachary, AJ, come here,” Crowley said gently, his free arm outstretched towards them.

“Why won’t Papa wake up?” Zachary sniffed as he climbed towards Crowley.

“And why is he cold? He has a blanket,” AJ added innocently.

Crowley looked at Zachary, the nearly identical copy of the angel he had just lost. “Because your Papa died. Which means he won’t be coming back.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you miss him?” Rosalie asked nearly twenty years after the incident as she stood next to her father and brothers in front of the marble headstone that was carved into a pair of white wings.

“Every day,” Crowley replied, his voice cracking. “You know that.”

“What was he like?” she asked.

Crowley lifted his gaze to meet his not-so-little girl’s. “I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Tell me a thousand more,” she replied with a gentle smile. “Tell me about the first time you met.”

“That was ages ago…”

Zachary smiled, small dimples in the exact same places as Aziraphale. “Don’t tell us you’ve forgotten, old man.”

The demon shook his head with a faraway smile. “Of course not. I could never forget. I was sent to Earth, to the Garden of Eden, in order to tempt Adam and Eve into committing the first sin. The big no-no: eating from the Tree of Knowledge. It was easy, really. Just hung out of the tree and whispered into Eve’s ear about how good those apples were and how she should really try one.”

“Wait,” AJ stopped him. “You were hanging in a tree?”

Crowley scowled lightly at him. “I wasn’t called the _Serpent_ of Eden for nothing. I was a snake back then. Still am, if we’re being honest.”

“Right, of course,” AJ smiled and Crowley knew he was just teasing him along. “Please continue, oh, great Serpent of Eden.”

“Right, I’ll do you for that later,” Crowley pointed a finger at his eldest son. “But for now… your father gave them his sword before they were banished from the garden. He was always a softie, even then. After the humans left the garden, I went to talk to the angel. Principality of the Eastern Gate was his title. I assumed he would be just as stuck up as the rest of Heaven’s lot, but he was different. He was…” Crowley shrugged, “ _Aziraphale_. I didn’t mean to like him, but it’s very hard not to when you ask what happened to his sword and he blurts out that he gave it away for the benefit of someone else.” A soft expression befell the demon’s face as he looked down. Crowley placed a hand on the warm stone and smiled. “He shielded me from the very first rainfall with his wings. Only kindness I was ever shown since I fell from Heaven.”

“When did you know you were in love?” Rosie asked, tilting her head a little.

Crowley laughed, wiping his sleeve underneath his nose. “When he said he gave away his sword.”

All three kids began laughing, huddling close together in front of the grave. “You know,” AJ began, “I don’t remember much about Papa, but I do remember how soft he was. He gave the best hugs, that I know for sure.” He sighed. “I wish I could hug him again, tell him I love him and all that.”

“He knew,” Crowley said quietly.

“Was he always that soft, Dad?”

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” Crowley snorted. “Both Heaven and Hell had these perfect sentries in mind, all muscle and no emotions. Big, meaty guys,” he puffed his chest out a little. “But they got me and your Papa instead. He was soft from the very beginning, at least that’s what he used to tell me. And I have always been, well, _this_ ,” he gestured to his lanky form. “But your grandmother made each of us personally, so one can only wonder what She was thinking when She allowed that fluffy angel to fall in love with this scruffy demon.”

“She was obviously thinking clearly,” Rosie rested her head on her dad’s shoulder. “Without the two of you, we’d never exist.”

“Yeah, and we all know that would have been a tragedy,” Zachary scoffed. Crowley rolled his eyes, stretching his arms across the shoulders of his children.

“I love you,” he said. “Your Papa loved you. Don’t you ever forget it.”

They stood together for a while before Zachary spoke again, his voice soft. “What really happened to him, Dad?”

Crowley stiffened. “Fire in the bookshop. He fell asleep and didn’t make it out.”

“Shouldn’t he have just discorporated? And then come back? You told us that angels and demons can’t really die. Especially not by human means. Please, just tell us the truth. We deserve it.”

“The truth?” Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. “Your father… he was murdered. An angel or something came in while I was gone and killed him.” He had tears falling down his cheeks. “The one time I wasn’t there to save him and look what happened.”

“Wait… I think I remember that night,” Rosie knit her eyebrows together. Crowley turned to look at her. “I thought… I always thought it was just a nightmare.”

“What? What do you remember? What did you see?”

Rosie closed her eyes. “Blood,” her voice trembled. “Blood everywhere. I remember someone came in while Papa was filling the bath… They had a sword or something.” She shook her head, “They killed him right in front of me.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “How could I forget something like that?”

“You were a child,” Crowley said. “You shouldn’t have to remember.”

“But I do. I remember they twisted the sword like there was nothing to it. Like they weren’t ripping a father from his child. From his husband, his family.” She took a steadying breath as tears fell down her cheeks. “I watched him die that night. They put him in the bath after he was… gone,” she continued. “Let the water run until the tub turned red and overflowed. Then they vanished. I don’t remember anything else until you picked me up.”

Everyone around her had tears in their eyes and on their cheeks. “Ro…” AJ whispered, moving towards her to envelop her in a hug. “Shh…” he hushed his little sister gently as she began sobbing.

“Rosie…” Crowley started. “Do you remember what they looked like?”

She shook her head, wiping her sleeve across her face. “No.”

“Do you remember anything about them?”

“I remember… their eyes.” Crowley looked up at her hopefully. “They were glowing.”

“Do you remember what color they were?”

“Purple.” Crowley covered his mouth with one of his hands and nodded, turning away from his kids as she answered. “Dad? You know who did it?”

“I always had my suspicions,” he took a breath. “But now I know for sure.”

“Who?”

“The biggest,” he paused, letting out a hiss in place of a profanity, “Heaven claims as their own: the Archangel Gabriel.”

“You called?” a voice spoke up from behind the group. He smiled as they spun around. “Demon,” he greeted. “Abominations,” Gabriel nodded his head towards the children and adjusted the gray scarf that hung across his shoulders. “I believe I was summoned?”

Crowley stared at him for a moment before he lunged. “Murderer!” His eyes were yellow with fury as he began throwing punches. “You killed him, you bastard!”

Gabriel dodged most of Crowley’s assaults, waiting for the demon to tire himself out. “Finished?” he asked, wiping a bit of blood from his lower lip.

“Just getting started,” Crowley growled, raising his fists again.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you sure? Because it looks like I have the upper hand here, you know, with the collateral damage and all.” Gabriel waved his hand, throwing Crowley’s children into some of the various rocks that littered the perimeter of the cemetery.

“No!” Crowley ran towards his kids, carefully helping them sit up, the archangel all but forgotten. Rosie was the best off, with a cut on her forehead being the only injury she sustained. A thin line of blood ran down her face as she was helped to a sitting position. Crowley hurried over to AJ next, pulling him up to rest against an unbroken stone in order to catch his breath. He was panting heavily as he cradled his shattered right arm. AJ nodded his father away, reassuring him that he would be alright. Crowley turned his head to locate Zachary when he froze. The younger of the two boys was lying motionless in the grass, his face pale and hair pink with blood. Crowley was on all fours next to his son, memories flooding back. In that moment, all Crowley could see was Aziraphale in the tub in front of him, dying all over again.

Crowley cradled his son’s head gently on his lap. Zachary weakly opened his eyes, squinting in the harsh light. “Dad?”

“I’m here, buddy. You’re going to be okay.” Crowley tried to assess the damage that was done to his youngest son. He took the cuff of his sleeve and tried to dab away the blood that was across the boy’s face.

“Aww,” Gabriel cooed. “Letting daddy fix you all better?”

“Shut up!” Crowley hissed, instincts torn between staying to protect his children and fighting with the angel. “They’re just kids,” his voice broke a little as he tried to reason with the angel. “They have nothing to do with this.”

“They’re abominations,” Gabriel responded, venom in his voice. “There should be no such thing as an angel and demon hybrid. It’s unnatural.”

“You’re unnatural,” Zachary slurred, his eyes cloudy as he searched for the archangel.

“Good one, buddy,” Crowley returned his attention to the boy in his lap. “Now I need you to promise me you won’t go to sleep. I have to get rid of him.”

Zachary nodded his head a little. “Go get ‘im, Dad,” he mumbled.

Crowley gently set Zachary back onto the grass before he stood up to face the archangel. “You’re going to pay for that, and what you did to Aziraphale.”

“Oh, stupid demon. You’re weak. You couldn’t defeat me if you tried.”

“Wanna bet?” Crowley lunged forward again and caught Gabriel in the jaw with a right hook. “You don’t spend six thousand years on Earth and not pick up a few tricks.” He beat the angel back with several swings, leading him away from the kids.

“Dad?” a weak voice called out to him.

Crowley froze and turned towards the call, missing the punch Gabriel threw towards his cheek. He went down in a spray of blood, landing hard on his wrists. “Zachary, buddy, you can do this. Just stay awake.”

“I can’t,” his voice was getting frailer.

“Don’t you dare say that,” Crowley growled, wiping blood from his lower lip as he rushed toward his son.

“’S okay,” Zachary said, looking up at his father.

“Zachary Alexander, you are going to be fine,” Crowley shushed him as he did what weak miracle he could to save his son’s life.

The boy’s eyes wandered to somewhere behind his father, their color just a bit clearer than before. “I can see…” he lifted his head a little. A soft smile appeared on his face as he relaxed back into his father’s arms, “I can see Papa.”

“Ignore that and look at me,” Crowley insisted.

“I can see him too,” AJ spoke up, his voice breathy.

“Anthony Junior, don’t you lie to me. I thought it was just your arm that was–” Crowley turned to face him and stopped short, his breath catching in his throat. “Aziraphale?” his voice cracked.

“Impossible,” Gabriel snarled.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale stared at the archangel coldly, not saying a word. “Angel?” Crowley stood up, shakily making his way towards his husband. Aziraphale glanced indifferently at Crowley before returning his attention to Gabriel. “Aziraphale?”

“Get the children somewhere safe,” Aziraphale’s voice was all business, all but lacking its normal warmth.

“Angel, there is _no_ way I am leaving your side,” Crowley protested, standing up.

“Crowley, _please_ ,” the angel’s hard façade cracked a little.

“We can help,” Rosie pushed herself to her feet and wobbled a little before gaining her balance. “He won’t stand a chance against four of us.” AJ stood as well, trying to hide his hisses of pain.

Aziraphale’s face softened as he watched his children stand next to his husband. A proud feeling fluttered through his chest as he looked at the family that was determined to back him up. “Leave, Gabriel. And don’t ever bother us again,” Aziraphale demanded, pointing his reacquired sword towards the archangel. Gabriel snarled but disappeared, knowing that four of them would be too much to take on by himself. Aziraphale sagged with relief before he hurried over to his youngest son. He placed a soft hand on his forehead and closed his eyes, healing the boy completely. Zachary sat up and stared at his father with wide eyes, his mind slowly catching up with what he was seeing. Aziraphale moved to AJ next, lightly touching his broken arm before healing it. AJ’s mouth fell open a little bit as he watched his father move along to his sister. Aziraphale cupped his daughter’s cheek carefully before the mark on her forehead vanished.

She let out a choked cry before throwing her arms around his neck. “Papa!” Aziraphale wrapped his arms tightly around her, hugging her as close as he could. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It’s really me.”

“Pop!” Zachary and AJ crowded around him, trying their best not to cry.

“You’ve gotten so big, all of you,” Aziraphale commented. The kids began crying, huddling around their father.

Up until that moment, Crowley had stood frozen as he stared at the angel. “Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, rushing between his children to hold him for the first time in over two decades. “Angel, you’re alive,” tears began falling down his cheeks. “You’re alive…”

Aziraphale placed a hand on his husband’s cheek. “My dear,” his smile wobbled as he looked into the golden eyes he loved so much. He could see the years of stress and heartbreak behind their glassy surface as he placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “You kept your hair long,” he commented softly.

“You always did like it that way,” Crowley let out a sob before crushing Aziraphale into a hug. “I missed you so much!”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and let himself sink into the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of his husband. “I missed you as well.”

“What happened to you?” Crowley asked, pulling back just enough to look at the angel’s face.

Aziraphale’s expression darkened. “When Gabriel found out about our switch after the Apocalypse, he was not pleased.”

“I assume that’s putting it mildly,” Crowley smiled a little.

Aziraphale returned the smile. “Very. He swore to make me pay. And he decided to do it when I had the most to lose.” He pulled his children closer. “You two boys came right after the Apocalypse,” Aziraphale told them. “Your father and I got married and ten months later you two appeared.”

“We didn’t need to know that,” AJ groaned.

Aziraphale smiled a bit more. “We had two amazing years together as a family of four. It was wonderful, but something didn’t feel quite right yet. Then I got some big news. Your little sister was on her way. And just like that, I knew nothing could get better. We had one perfect year together before Gabriel knew that there was no better time to enact his revenge. He knew you would always protect me, dear, even if it was to the death,” Aziraphale looked at Crowley. “But we were extremely fortunate that you happened to take the children out on the night Gabriel decided to make his visit. I think your lives were saved only because you were gone. And I thank God every day that nothing happened to you.”

“You thank Her?” Crowley shook his head. “Why? She let you _die_ –”

“Discorporate,” Aziraphale corrected him. “I didn’t die.”

“But your body–?”

“Was left there on purpose to make you believe that I was dead. Gabriel came into the bathroom as I was preparing to step into the bath. He told me that he knew what we had done and that he was there to settle the score.” His eyes darkened, “He picked Rosie up before I knew what was happening. He threatened her if I didn’t follow his demands.”

“I’m so sorry, Papa,” she whispered.

“Whatever for?” Aziraphale exclaimed, grabbing her hands.

“If I wasn’t there, maybe he would have let you go,” she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Aziraphale lifted her chin, “My dear, there is nothing that can prevent Gabriel from doing something once he’s set his halo to it. You just made his case stronger. He demanded that I self-discorporate in order to return to Heaven. I had him swear that no harm was to come to you before I complied. I assumed he was going to bring my body with him when he returned, but he didn’t. It wasn’t until later that I realized what he had done with it.”

Crowley paled at the memory. “He obliterated you, angel.”

“As he intended, yes. I wish I could have prevented you from seeing that, I really do.” He reached out to caress the demon’s cheek. “But I’m here now, and that’s all in the past.”

“But how are you here?” Crowley asked.

“I cannot say for certain, but I do believe that a Divine Presence was mostly responsible for my escape.”

“Escape? From what?”

“Heaven,” Aziraphale said. “Gabriel threw me into one of the prison cells and forced me to watch everything had happened from the moment you returned to the bookshop, onwards. The fire,” he took a little breath. “The fire was not planned. I don’t know what happened.”

“Me,” Crowley blurted. “I did it. I burned down the shop.”

Aziraphale took a half-step backwards in shock. “You what?”

“You were _dead_ , Aziraphale,” Crowley reasoned quietly. “I couldn’t stand to have that many reminders of you. But I do…” he fished around in his jacket pocket, “have this.” He pulled out the ring and took Aziraphale’s hand in his own.

Aziraphale gasped, “You have it! I thought it was gone forever,” tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“It was the one piece of you I couldn’t bear to lose.” Crowley splayed his husband’s fingers and slipped the ring back onto its rightful place. “But I will not be holding on to it again,” he glared at the angel.

Aziraphale beamed up at his husband. “Wouldn’t dream of letting you, my dear.”

“I love you so much,” Crowley whispered, leaning forward to capture Aziraphale’s lips with his own. It was a feeling he had missed for years, and one that he would never take granted for again. “Promise me you’ll never leave us again,” Crowley begged softly.

“I swear,” Aziraphale replied, pulling his family into a tight hug, his wings extending out to pull them ever closer.


End file.
